


The Note

by koalathebear



Category: Bones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-02
Updated: 2012-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 17:12:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/310156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koalathebear/pseuds/koalathebear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set a year or so after <i>Aliens in a spaceship</i> because The Note <i>seriously</i> makes me want to die of curiosity. I mean - who, what and more importantly - like <i>who?</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Note

_"Again?"_ Exasperation coloured Booth's voice as he scanned the room impatiently.

"I'm sorry," Brennan exclaimed. "I said I'm sorry!"

Booth made a gesture of frustration with his hands but said nothing for a moment, moving through the hall.

"OK you said you had the key when you answered the phone?"

"I was getting dressed, I know it must be somewhere in my bedroom," she told him firmly. "I was getting ready – the phone rang …." She walked with Booth into her neat bedroom, not even bothering to feel self-conscious when he entered her bedroom. Booth had looked around her entire apartment on more than one occasion before - including her bedroom when he was guarding her.

Booth's mouth twitched. "So did you solve another crime over the phone?" he teased her.

She knew she was being baited but couldn't help retorting,"Of course not. You know I don't jump to conclusions without having first examined all of the evidence thoroughly. And it's not a crime – they've just discovered another tomb in Northern China and found the almost completely intact skeletal remains of what appears to be a young male in his teens. He's encased in a jade burial suit. The remains are due to arrive tomorrow".

Booth grinned. "You are so easy."

"Am not."

"OK, you take the wardrobe, I'll look on the dresser," he told her as he stood in the doorway of her bedroom.

"Don’t be so bossy," she said automatically.

Booth rolled his eyes. "For the record, _you_ asked _me_ to attend this thing with you. Begged me."

"I did not beg you."

He raised an eyebrow at her, grinning wickedly.

"I don't like cocktail parties," Brennan said abruptly.

"Guess your publisher doesn't know that. Also, to be fair - _you're_ the one who lost your own car keys. Again."

"Only because you keep telling me that I have too many keys on my key chain!" she protested.

Booth shot her a look. "Why does it not surprise me that you can find a way to make all of this my fault? Look, we can take my car."

"No, I said I wanted to drive tonight."

"You can drive my car then," he said with the air of someone making a great concession. "We're already late."

"No. My car, I drive - you in the grandma seat tonight," she told him firmly and he laughed despite himself.

Booth walked over to the dresser and began going through the items scattered on the polished wood, sifting through the discarded necklaces and earrings. He recognised most of them. Brennan owned a lot of jewellery but they'd been working together long enough for him to recognise most of them. Her jewellery was always very unique and distinctive – much like Brennan herself.

"Your mother's earrings," he said holding up the earrings that he knew were one of her favourites.

Brennan paused from where she was peering into the floor of her wardrobe.

"Good memory," she remarked, with a faint frown creasing her brow as she stared at the heavy earrings hanging from between Booth's fingers.

"For some things," Booth said.

There was a long moment of silence and Booth cleared his throat self-consciously but remained silent.

"Yes. You never did tell me where you found my mother's earring," Brennan said slowly.

He shrugged. "I forget."

"Good memory, remember?"

"Only for some things. Remember?" he countered, with his disarming grin.

"You found it at Graham Legere's house, right?" Brennan asked him bluntly, her gaze not moving from his face.

Booth said nothing and kept his face impassive.

"You shouldn't have done that," she told him gently. "You withheld incriminating evidence from a crime scene from the police."

"The detective annoyed me.... besides - I knew you were innocent."

"I still have no idea how," she said, frowning again.

"I cannot believe how much jewellery one woman can own," Booth said abruptly, staring back at her dresser and deliberately changing the topic. "You only have one pair of ears and one neck, and look at all this," he said, quickly going through the paraphernalia on her dresser.

"Just look for the key, Booth – unless you want me to get started on the topic of expensive Italian suits and ties," she said sharply and started looking through the pockets of jackets hanging in the wardrobe.

"I'm just making an observation," Booth told her, loosening his tie slightly. He hated wearing a monkey suit only slightly less than Brennan hated cocktail parties.

He opened the jewellery box on her dresser. "Ah, found it," he said fishing out a key with an air of triumph. As he did so, the key ring inadvertently snagged a number of chains around that spilled out onto the dresser along with a slightly crumpled scrap of paper. "Damn," he muttered just as Brennan was turning around inquiringly.

"Where did you find …?" Her voice trailed off. Booth was standing motionless, staring down in a fixed fashion at piece of paper in his hand.

"Don’t read that," she told him immediately.

"It's got my name on it," he said, dropping the keys to the dresser, continuing to stare down at the slightly brown piece of paper. It was creased and stained with what looked like dirt and maybe even dried blood. Realisation dawned in his eyes.

There was almost nothing on it, just a few lines scrawled in handwriting that he immediately recognised as belonging to Brennan. His eyes travelled from his name down to her signature, to the writing that was uneven and jagged as if it was written by someone in a great hurry. The words were brief but he could feel his pulse quicken, his body tighten and his breath catch.

His dark eyes lifted from the paper to meet Brennan's wary gaze.

"Bones …" His voice was low. Husky.

Brennan moved forward, reaching out to snatch the paper from his hands. "I _told_ you not to read it," she said angrily as she avoided his gaze.

He held it out of her reach and stared down at it again. To her horror, he tucked it into the pocket of his jacket.

"It's _mine_ ," he told her softly. "You wrote it to me. For me."

"I wasn't thinking clearly. Being buried alive will do that to you," she told him tersely. "Give it back, Booth," she told him, holding out her hand imperatively.

He ignored her request and instead reached out and took her hand in his. He drew her closer to him.

"You wrote this then …. when the Gravedigger took you and Hodgins," he said slowly as he studied her face.

"Oxygen deprivation can have a strange effect on the brain," she told him, her hand trembling slightly. Booth's expression was unreadable.

"I know. You'd run out of air, out of time …. and you took the time to write me a note," he told her softly.

"I wouldn't read too much into it. I think we can go since you've found my keys?" she told him briskly, trying to pull her hand away unsuccessfully.

"Yes, I know how much you love cocktail parties," he said dryly. "A year ago," he said slowly. "You felt this way a year ago?" He asked her.

He pulled her closer, his hands resting on her bare shoulders. His touch burned her flesh, his mouth was very close to hers and his brow was resting against hers. She was trembling. He might have been, as well but all that mattered was that her breathing was shallow and she was soft and pliant against him.

"Booth …"

"A year," he mused, his fingers reaching up to trace the curve of her jaw.

Embarrassment flickered in Brennan's eyes.

"So. What took you so long?" Booth demanded.

Brennan's eyes widened in shock and Booth laughed wryly. "Hey, I've felt that way about you a hell of a lot longer, Bones. I was wondering how long it was going to take you to catch up."

Brennan's breath caught in her throat just as Booth's mouth slid along her jaw line. Her fingers clutched his jacket convulsively and when his mouth moved onto hers, she was pulling him closer, leaning against him, breathing deeply of his familiar scent.

His hands slid to the back of her dress, unzipped her dress slowly just as she fumbled with his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders impatiently and they found themselves at a clothing impasse.

"This isn't practical, one of us needs to undress first," she pointed out in a muffled voice as he laughed at their predicament and shrugged off his own jacket before returning his attention to the fastening of her dress.

Their second kiss was longer than their first, hungrier and fiercer and as she lay beneath him on the bed, her eyes were dark and expectant.

"You expect me to sleep with you after one kiss?" she asked him sardonically.

"Two, actually. How about after the third kiss then?" he countered, his voice thick and unsteady as he kissed her for the third time.

"What about the cocktail party?" She asked, even as she continued to help him pull off her clothes.

"You hate cocktail parties," he told her, tossing their clothes to the ground.

"True," she said, tilting her head back to give him better access. "Booth."

"What?" he demanded, faint exasperation in his voice as his hand cupped her breast. His hair was tousled and his eyes were dark and shadowed.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked him.

"Absolutely. If you're harbouring any doubts, speak now or forever hold your peace," he teased her and she groaned. "Like that, do you?" he taunted her wickedly. She bit her lip and arched up against his touch, moaning again as his clever fingers slid deeper.

"What if this is a big mistake?" she asked him, faint panic in her eyes. "What if this changes everything between us?" She asked him.

"Change can be good," he whispered and as she clung to him and felt him murmur her name against her bare, damp skin, all hesitancy vanished.

***

"Hello?" Booth's voice was very groggy and drowsy. "OK, got it. Will be there in a moment". He paused and listened and then answered,"She's right here, we'll be there soon," he said and hung up just as the person at the end of the line was squawking: "She's there with you at 3am in the morning?"

Brennan was already awake and sliding from the bed, reaching for a robe. "I'll grab a shower first if that's all right with you? Unless of course you'd like to join me?" she asked him, a very shy smile on her face.

Booth laughed and pulled her lanky body back against him. "We'll never get out the door if I do that."

Brennan leaned down and her mouth moved against his in a slow and tantalising manner.

"And why would that be a bad thing?" she asked him.

He smiled at her. "Stuff to do, people to see, bodies to ID and bad guys to catch ...."

"I guess some things don't change," she told him and the kiss was a promise.


End file.
